Expectations

a really important piece of verve is hearing voices from all over the place who are stepping out of what was once comfortable and sure and trying new things.  it’s a long story how we all came together, but i have had the privilege and pleasure of becoming friends with a community of exiles in phoenix who formed as an emergent cohort.  they are called emerging desert and are experimenting with life together outside of the confines of traditional church.  when i saw the theme for this week, i knew that joy shroeder was the right person to share.  letting go of expectations, leaving what was behind & embracing the new is messy & beautiful all wrapped up into one.  here’s a  slice of her story.  peace, kathy escobar

By Joy Schroeder

Expectations motivate and define our lives. Some are concrete, others are ethereal. A handful will culminate in joyful satisfaction, while many more will dissipate and be forgotten. Unfortunately, a few expectations can leave permanent scars. The dynamics of faith communities are no exception.

Not so long ago, I expected that the institutional church would be a classroom of sorts for me in life and faith, providing spiritual formation and personal discovery. I expected that the church and I would have a relationship very similar to marriage. I imagined we’d be equally committed to loving, serving and giving sacrificially of ourselves in a deliberate effort to manifest Christ-likeness. My church did help me discover my personality type (powerful Choleric) my passion for truth and justice, my spiritual and motivational gifts (speaking truth, teaching and serving) and uncovered my natural ability to love the unlovely and marginalized. I, in turn, served faithfully in any capacity needed. I expected to enjoy a mutually beneficial and fulfilling relationship inside the church forever.

When a popular “purpose driven” movement swept through my faith community helping people to identify God’s special plan for their lives, I instantly became obsessed. I bought into the expectation that God would deliver a concise plan for my life overnight. I waited and watched, bewildered, as others seemed to effortlessly fall into their divine callings as mine stalled. Clamoring for clarity, I willingly submitted myself to‘constructive’ criticism, character evaluations, accountability partners and endless workshops preparing for ministry and purpose, to no avail. This was a precarious season of great expectation. I became increasingly convinced there was an invisible ‘ladder of purpose’ which existed to usher privileged spiritual superstars to significance and meaning. I wanted to climb that ladder and believed once on it, I would also arrive at my coveted destination of divine purpose where everything in my life would finally make sense.

What I expected is not what happened. I found the figurative ‘ladder of spiritual purpose’ but climbing it was difficult for me. It turns out that each ‘rung’ would require me to stifle many of the innate qualities of my character that I valued most such as speaking truthfully, being authentic and advocating for messy broken people. I grew disillusioned and discouraged. God’s plan and purpose appeared less ordained and more dependant upon unabashed self promotion, never questioning church authority and pledging allegiance to a ‘brand name’ mega church. I knew I was unable to conform or perform to gain approval. I disappointed church leadership and they lost credibility with me. My ‘marriage’ to the church was strained as my neat, tidy religion slowly unraveled.

Despite our widening differences, I never expected to be verbally assaulted or emotionally bullied by several leaders earning labels like negative, divisive, dangerous and even the title of’ insubordinate woman’! Yet, I attempted to be the authentic person the church of my youth helped me to unearth and embrace. Eventually though, my strong personality and sense of justice became deal breakers for them and thorns to me. I was shocked when a seemingly benign invitation out for coffee by our young pastor unexpectedly evolved into a premeditated manifesto urging my husband and I “to prayerfully consider finding another place to worship”…unless of course we were willing to “fully submit” to his leadership and be “all-in”.

As disappointing as many of these experiences were to me at the time, enduring the attempted assassination of my ‘character’ paled in comparison to being invited to leave my church family. I underestimated how deeply the mixed messages would fester in my spirit causing unimaginable pain and confusion, eventually leading me to question everything I ever believed to be true and good about myself, the church and God. At forty-one years old, I expected to be settled into a life of sovereign purpose and ministry inside the church but instead I began the process of deconstructing my life long faith. I didn’t expect feelings of overwhelming fear and doubt to become constant companions after finally walking away from the institution. Almost against my will I found myself navigating the legendary ‘slippery slope’ I’d been warned to avoid at all costs.

I never expected to land in safe spiritual community again. With my lofty and often misguided expectations for myself and the church dashed, I imagined a lonely and bitter existence on the ‘outside’ indefinitely. When my husband suggested we visit an Emergent Village Cohort meeting only 5 miles from home…I was beyond hesitant, bordering on panicky. I couldn’t have predicted I would feel immediately connected and infused with hope after only a few visits with these new people; moving me to excitedly offer to host the group in my home every Sunday thereafter. I never expected to stumble upon great resources, wise sages as well as proximal (and virtual) community that welcomes and encourages institutional church dropouts with broken dreams and nearly extinct faith.

Truthfully I admit, this isn’t the spiritual journey I had planned to embark on. I am still grieving but I am hopeful. My new community, Emerging Desert Cohort, has provided me a lifeline I didn’t expect to find let alone embrace. Because of it, I am slowly recovering shards of fractured faith and discovering new spiritual practices to appreciate. Occasionally, confining old ideals of myself and others threaten to resurface. I strive to let them go. I find I agree with inspirational author, Alan Cohen, who said;

“It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.”

I continue to contemplate the future. But today, for my sake and for the sake of my community, I strive for the grace to let go of expectations that rob communal and individual freedom in Christ and limit the possibilities of adventure for everyone.

Joy Schroeder is a recovering conservative evangelical finding new hope through an unexpected faith community.  She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Jim and their 4 daughters.